Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
My sisters had pulled me out of some of the darkest seasons of my life, so though they could get under my skin like no one else, I made sure I carved out time in my schedule to catch up with them.
“That boy never listens,” Whitney said around a mouthful of puffy Cheetos.
“We’re just gonna have a couple of drinks while we discuss business. Why y’all tripping about it?” I adjusted the collar of my shirt, focusing on my reflection in the mirror.
Camille sighed and clacked away on her keyboard again. “You only take women out when you’re interested in them, Deke. We know you.”
“That’s a false accusation.”
“Please. If she was a man, would you have asked her to join you for drinks and business?” Whitney countered.
“I might’ve.” I couldn’t help smirking at that.
No, I wouldn’t have, but unless I was hanging out with my boys Javier and EJ, there was no point in hanging around dudes outside of work. I was a man, but even I knew hanging with other men got boring as hell after a while.
“No! See, look at you! Grinning! Camille, talk some sense into this boy, please!”
Camille removed her glasses with a long-winded sigh.
“Uh-oh. Not the glasses coming off.” I slid my watch onto my wrist as Camille pursed her lips.
Camille was the oldest of us all, and she got tired of me and Whitney’s shenanigans real quick. Not that she wasn’t patient, she was just hella mature—way more than we were. Camille didn’t sugarcoat a damn thing she said, and she definitely didn’t play any games. It was why she was so good as a family law attorney.
“Yes, the glasses are coming off, because I need you to look me in the eye and promise you won’t do something stupid tonight. Just sign the deal, help the lady out, and be on your way. Her products are really good. I put on some of the shea lip balm at the office earlier, and it lasted me hours, and if you mess up that endless supply of lip balm for me, I will fight you.”
“And I’ll be jumping in to tag team your ass,” Whitney added with a breathy laugh. “I used the honey shea lotion after a couple of my showers, and it had my skin feeling like a newborn baby’s booty. Do not mess this up, Deke.”
“Look, it’s just drinks, all right? I’ll sign the contract as soon as we meet.”
“Should’ve done that at her office,” Camille muttered, settling her glasses on the bridge of her nose again. “You’ve made a terrible habit of roping people in just to let them down, Declan. Don’t go ruining people’s lives because of your inflated ego.”
“First of all, you know I hate when you call me by my real name. Secondly, I’m not going to ruin anyone’s life, all right? This Davina chick has a good vibe. I just want to know more about her business to make sure this is the right fit. And like y’all said, you love her products and want more, so why not build on that?”
“Sounds like a load of bullshit.”
“Whitney, seriously? Eli is in the room,” Camille said, sighing.
“Oh, sorry, Eli! Love you, baby! It’s not like he’s listening anyway. He’s always on his iPad.”
“Anyway,” Camille replied curtly. “Sign the contract, Deke, and move along. What is it about her that makes you want to build the business relationship, anyway? That sounds really weird coming from you. Any other time and you let bigmouth Arnold do all the talking ’cause you hate the business part.”
Camille’s question caught me off guard. She was right. I did hate talking business.
Don’t get me wrong, I loved money, but talking about it along with sales figures and percentages irked the fuck out of me. I stared at my reflection and pressed my lips as I searched for the answer.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I just respect her grind. She’s humble, and she has a good thing going with this skin care thing. Y’all know how hard it is for Black women to succeed out here. Gotta work twice as hard. Plus, she reminded me of y’all with the hustle and the confidence.”
I wasn’t going to tell them her sex appeal was a hell of a bonus. One look was all it took for me to lock in and memorize her heart-shaped face and her upturned brown eyes, which were like whiskey in the light.
She was so effortlessly put together, with a head full of tight natural curls, curvy hips, thick thighs, and a smile that could make any man stop dead in his tracks.
All the qualities I was looking for in my dream woman: Davina Klein had them.
“Aww,” Whitney cooed.
“Okay, that’s fine and dandy, but if I see any news leaks about you sliding your you-know-what in this woman, I’m not backing you up—especially if she decides to sue you down the line. Because you know that can happen, right? You’re inviting her to dinner, buttering her up, and throwing hella mixed signals. She could say you initiated the manner of your relationship, if her business declines.”